


A Starlit Dance

by DarthAbby



Series: Every Day With Someone New [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, Immortality, Impossible Wolf, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAbby/pseuds/DarthAbby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara just wants to meet Rose (for real this time). Celestial and/or cosmic entities seem opposed to the idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Starlit Dance

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of revision of a [prompt](http://butim-justharry.tumblr.com/post/120631395418/characters-your-otp-you-pick-numbers-95-3) I received a while back on tumblr.
> 
> Also partially inspired by this [post](http://butim-justharry.tumblr.com/post/111316817513/myclara-doctor-who-au-im-clara-oswald-im).

I have so many different names. Some that I quite like, others that I don't care for. There is one, though, one that is so precious to me because it is what she calls me.

 

I have been born more times then I care to count, and died each time - sometimes in pain, sometimes not - looking to help one person.

 

It's her. It's always her. In every time, on every world, I am always running to save her. And she never sees me. The one who made me what I am, who wipes away my tears and showers me in golden light, never notices me running to help.

 

That's because of him - he always swoops in at the last second to play the hero, taking over whatever I started hours before to try and save her. And she always thinks only of him as her savior, and I don't get so much as a passing glance. With every death, however, I have my moments with her.

 

The golden light envelops me in my passing, soothing my aches, healing my wounds, and bringing new life to my limbs. And then she appears, with eyes like the sun and cherry lips. He calls her "pink and yellow" - I know her to be red and gold. He thinks her fragile and in need of constant protection, but she is stronger than any of us. She is a wolf in old jeans and a soft hoodie; intoxicating and addicting. Sometimes I think death is preferable to life, if only because it is in death that she appears.

 

We dance among the stars, for either seconds or millenia, it is hard to know. Time has no meaning in death, something that bothers him, I am sure. Maybe that is why he runs so far from it whenever he can - the one thing in the universe that he cannot touch, but which touches everyone.

 

I run towards death, because that is what I must do. That is what I am born to do, every time. To save her from death, to guide her towards that all-important moment, so that we may dance in eternity. I have sacrificed myself for her over and over and over, I have broken countless laws and rules and I even once paid a child to write her words on his box. 

 

It always comes back to the words. Hers, and mine. Connected by phrases that neither of us chose for ourselves, but that bind us together across the years and planets. Hers are meant to be written, plastered across every surface, shouted from the rooftops and painted on the walls of ancient caves. Mine are whispers, gasped with last breaths, a small request mixed with final words, but just as important.

 

I will never meet her on the mortal plane, I know this. It is a cruel twist of fate, a cosmic joke that makes me wake up in a cold sweat sometimes. We transcend these boundaries, and while it is a sweet time together among the stars, it could be made sweeter with a mortal touch between us. I will take our moments together in death, though, as they are better than nothing at all.

 

We cannot be one without the other, leaving us inextricably caught together in every life. She creates me, and I ensure her creation in turn. The Bad Wolf creates the Impossible Girl to make certain that the Bad Wolf will come into being.

 

The cosmic entities that made us possible seem to forget that Rose and Clara are human at heart and would like to meet beyond death, but I can't really complain too much.

 

The golden light is getting nearly blinding. I know what this means. My time here in death is over, I am to be reborn again, and save her again.

 

Maybe this time she will see me. 


End file.
